Harry Potter and the Mirror of Erised
by candy-coded-goodness
Summary: Another take of Harry's life. Harry Potter an abused ophran, recieves his wings, a chance a freedom, a chance a new life, but with this new escape comes conequences from the past. Join Harry as he unravels the mystery to save his future
1. Prologue The Boy Who Survived

A/N: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in a Nutshell. At least for the first few chapters that is. Nothing _really_ belongs to me, as this is only a fanfiction. Everything belongs to JKR. Enjoy-CCG

Prologue

They had always feared that this day would come. They had only hoped that it  
hadn't come so soon.

It was a seemingly quiet Halloween night at Godric's Hollow, and James and  
Lily's presence graced the living room. James watched his wife as she paced  
the floor, lightly rubbing their son's back, and a soft, loving smile appeared  
on the face of the dark haired man, his hazel eyes shining. Lifting himself  
off the couch, James made his way over to Lily and Harry.

"He's as stubborn as you are," James commented.

Lily scoffed. "No, he just enjoys being as difficult as you."

"So you could say he takes after both of us."

"More after you James, my poor baby; just look at your hair!" Lily said,  
placing a kiss to Harry's head.

"Well, he came this close to having slimy hair." James said with a bitter  
undertone.

"You know I love you James."

"You didn't marry me outta spite?" He questioned. He didn't know why he was  
feeling so insecure; why he felt the need to confirm that Lily truly did love  
him.

"I took your date out of spite and interest." She paused. "But I married you  
for love."

James smiled and kissed her softly. The kiss was cut short by a disgruntled  
cry. The couple broke apart to stare at their son who looked ready to pitch a  
fit.

"What's the matter little man; you don't want me to kiss your mum?" What  
happened next scared Lily, Harry screamed as tears cascaded down his cheeks.

"Harry! What's wrong?" Lily asked, knowing he couldn't reply. She had never  
heard him cry like this.

A chill ran down James' spine; he walked over towards the window and pulled  
back the curtain slightly. Though it was dark, the moon shined brightly on the  
symbol of fear. "Lily! Run, take Harry, it's him!"

Fear froze the red haired woman, her emerald eyes expressing her hopelessness.  
Once he had come for her, once for her husband, and once they and a few others  
had triumphed over him. They had foiled one of his biggest raids.

But tonight was not about that. She knew why he had come tonight. Tears  
pricked her eyes as she realized how he had discovered them. What started off  
as a brilliant plan burned to ashes, her son's life was now in danger. Lily  
felt a strong tug on her arm. "Lily, go! Hide! Now!"

"James," She managed through sobs. "I love you."

"I love you too. We'll be together again, I promise!"

Lily took to the stairs and hurried into her son's room in search of the  
Potter's family heirloom. It was hard to search, her vision blurred from her  
crying. Harry, who had been silent after James' announcement, began to cry  
again.

Lily feared she knew why.

She could look no further as her heart broke. Lily walked over and placed  
Harry in his crib, drying his tears before drying her own. His bedroom door  
blew open, and Harry's cries became snivels and hiccups.

"Please," Lily cried. "Take me instead!"

"The time for that is over. No, stand aside girl."

"Please, not Harry! Take me instead! Take me!" She shouted.

"Stand aside!" The black cloaked man pulled out a well polished wooden stick  
and aimed it at the begging mother.

"Please-"

"Avada Kedavra."

Chapter One

The Boy Who Survived

It's not every day one sees a cat reading a map, a flock of owls in daylight,  
and strangely cloaked persons in robes. For any other 'normal' person these  
strange sightings would have been quite a sight. But for Vernon Dursley, they  
were not. He had his suspicions as to where the strange hordes of freakiness  
had emerged from. Vernon hurried to his career building, stopping to buy  
coffee on the way. A group of people in robes stood around the café,  
chattering in hushed whispers, but Vernon caught bits and pieces of their  
conversations.

"Harry Potter…"

"Only known survivor…"

"We must celebrate…"

Vernon squeezed his beefy hand into a fist as he hurried to retrieve his drink  
and rush back to his car. Thankfully, the rest of the day went by with no  
other freaky incidents.

In Vernon's minds he had the perfect life: a perfect, normal wife, a perfect,  
normal son and a perfect, normal job. [You can change it back to "great job"  
and "perfect, normal, and handsome son, if you'd like. However, the pattern of  
three is common in writing, and I personally feel it flows better.] He made  
his way to his doorstep of his home at number four Privet Drive, and as he  
reached the door he noticed the map reading cat he saw this morning. Ha, a cat  
reading a map...the thought was preposterous. He entered his home and walked  
to the kitchen where he knew his wife would be.

"Ah, Petunia...have you noticed anything weird today?"

"No," Petunia replied slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Vernon said and stared at his wife as she returned to preparing  
dinner. "Your sister…she has a son about Dudders age, doesn't she?"

"Yes." His wife replied lowly. Talk about the former Evans sister was never a  
welcome topic in the Dursley's home.

"Harold Porter, yeah?"

"Harry Potter." She corrected. "Vernon, what is this about?"

"Nothing, dear, nothing at all."

For the rest of the evening Vernon did not mention anything abnormal, or  
anything about the Potter side of Petunia's family. They were far away for all  
of that nonsense.

~~~~~~

A tabby black and gray cat stretched on the lawn of number four Privet Drive  
and watched with knowing eyes as the streetlights went out. An old man with  
long white hair, a long white beard, and icy blue eyes hidden behind crescent  
moon glasses made his way over to an older woman who now stood in the place of  
the tabby cat.

"Good evening Minerva." The man said.

"Good evening Albus." Minerva replied. "Tell me, are the rumors true, Albus?"

"Yes, I'm afraid they are."

"And what of the boy?" She asked.

"Hagrid is bringing him."

"Do you think it is wise, trusting him with something as important as this?"

"I trust him with my life, Minerva."

The rumbling sounds of a motorcycle could be heard; not from the road, but  
from the sky. The motorcycle landed and came to a skidding halt in front of  
the two abnormal looking adults. A tall gruff man with long black hair and  
bearded face nodded at them. "Good evening, Professors."

"Good evening, Hagrid. I trust everything went well?" Albus asked.

"After some convincing, yeah." Hagrid answered. The oversized man removed  
himself from the flying motorbike, a blanket bundle pressed against his large  
chest. It took only one hand to remove and hand the child over to the other  
man.

"This isn't right Albus, leaving him with these people. I've watched them all  
day, the worst sort of muggles imaginable. Lily and James would-"

"Lily and James would want their son protected at all costs." Albus  
interrupted.

Hagrid began to sob. "There, there, Hagrid. This isn't goodbye, after all."

"Albus, I beg you, we shouldn't leave him here! There won't be a child in our  
world that doesn't know his name!"

"He should be kept away from all of that, until he is ready." Albus placed the  
bundle on top the doorstep of number four Privet Drive and laid a letter  
inside the bundle, addressed to Petunia Dursley.

"Good Luck, Harry Potter."


	2. The Boy Under the Stairs

A/N: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in a Nutshell. At least for the first few chapters that is. Nothing _really_ belongs to me, as this is only a fanfiction. Everything belongs to JKR. Enjoy-CCG

Chapter Two

The Boy Under the Stairs.

Green light blared brightly in the small confinement. There was a loud gasp  
followed by heavy breathing, a click before the cupboard lit up, revealing a  
small boy with unruly black hair, piercing green eyes and clothes three times  
his size. He reached out for his glasses in the usual spot. He was blind  
without them.

There was a hard knock at the door and a shrill voice after it.

"Get up, now!"

The boy stretched and moved to leave the small room when he heard a thundering  
sound above him. He knew it was his cousin, barreling down the steps. As the  
dark haired boy poked his head out of the cupboard his cousin shoved his fat  
fist in his face, pushing him back into his compartment. He rose again with a  
sigh and continued.

When he entered the kitchen, his uncle sat at the table, reading a newspaper,  
and his aunt had covered his cousin's eyes and slowly walked him over to a  
horde of neatly wrapped gifts.

The small child made his way over to the stove. He worked quietly and listened  
to his relative banter.

"Well Dudders, what do you think?" Petunia Dursley asked her son, who, aside  
from his blond hair, was the spitting image of his father.

"How many are there?" He asked in a whiny, spoiled tone of voice.

"Thirty-six, I've counted them myself." Vernon, his father, answered.

"Thirty-six? But last year I had thirty-seven!"

Harry looked up from his task and stared at his cousin with shock and disgust.  
Shaking his head, he moved to serve his family. As the Dursleys started to  
eat, Harry sat down as well and worked on the small amount of food he had  
served for himself. His aunt looked at him and then at her husband.

"Ms. Figg can't take him; she broke her leg tripping over one of her cats."

"Well, we'll find someone else to take him in." Vernon replied.

"Nobody'll take him; he's too much of a nuisance."

Harry hated it when they talked about him like he wasn't there.

"Well, he can't come with us!" Vernon stated.

"No mum! He'll ruin my party!" Dudley whined.

"I can stay here by myself." Harry cut in. He didn't want to be anywhere with  
Dudley and his annoying friend Piers. His comment was ignored.

"Vernon, he'll have to come with us."

Harry stared out the window of the four-door sedan and watched the cars go by.  
He was sitting next to Dudley, who occupied the middle seat, and most of  
Harry's side as well. Dudley's friend Piers had taken the other window seat.  
Harry listened as he uncle ranted about motorcycles and their riders.

"I had a dream about a motorcycle once." Harry said. "It was flying."

"Motorcycles don't fly!" His uncle shouted.

Harry kept quiet for the rest of the day. It was, so far, a good day for him.  
At the zoo, the animals fascinated him. There were creatures he had never seen  
before and he saw life forms in the same predicament as he, Harry, was in  
himself: in a cage being unfairly treated. He also relished in the fact that  
this was the first time the Dursley's had taken him anywhere that was fun. He  
had even gotten a lemon ice bar. Granted it was leftover from Dudley wanting  
an ice cream instead, but it was given to him and not to the trash.

They walked into the reptile house and stopped in front of a long snake  
sleeping on a rock. Dudley growled and pressed his face against the glass.  
Piers followed his example and then banged on the glass.

"Wake up, you stupid snake." Dudley barked. Harry turned to his cousin.

"He's asleep." Piers laughed and pulled Dudley away. Harry sighed and turned  
back to the reptile.

"Sorry 'bout him. He doesn't understand what it's like, lying there day after  
day, watching people press they're ugly face at you." The snake lifted its  
head. Harry straightened up. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes." The snake replied.

"Where are you from?" Harry asked.

"Nowhere, I was bred in captivity." The snake answered. "But I would like to  
go away one day, perhaps to find my family."

"I never knew my parent either."

His cousin pushed Harry to the side. He hit the floor with a thud; he  
turned his angry eyes towards the culprit. Dudley had come back and was  
currently pressing his whole body against the snake's window and in the blink  
of an eye the glass was gone. Dudley panicked and began to splash around in  
the snake's pond. He whimpered as the snake slithered out of his cage. It  
stopped in front of Harry. "Thank you, now I can go to Brazil." Harry nodded  
and watched cautiously as the snake passed him. He turned back to his cousin  
when he heard a scream. Dudley was banging on the glass window, which had  
reappeared, while his aunt screamed in agony for her little boy, as if he was  
dying. Harry chuckled lightly; it was an amusing sight. His uncle's glare  
stopped his laughter. He was in trouble, again, for something he didn't do.

The car ride was anything but fun for Harry. Dudley, who had been whining  
until he was released from the snake's cage, was now animatedly talking with  
Piers about how great it was and how sad it was to see Harry's best friend,  
the snake, escape. Or as they like to laugh, that the snake ran away from  
Harry because not even animals want to be friends with him. Harry would have  
responded if not for his uncle's death glares that he kept getting from the  
review mirror. Yeah, he was in deep trouble.

When they arrived back at number four privet drive, his aunt quickly ushered  
Dudley and Piers into the house. Harry got out and was grabbed and dragged  
into the house by his uncle. Vernon pushed Harry against the cupboard door.  
"What happened?"

"I don't know, you always ask me if I know something and to not doing anything  
abnormal, and I never have any idea of what you're talking about!" Harry  
shouted back. "All I know is that one minute the glass was there and then it  
was going! It was like magic."

"There's no such thing as magic." His uncle hissed again and tossed him into  
the cupboard.

Harry sighed and turned on the light. There may be no such things as magic,  
but there was such a thing as a guardian angel. He lifted up a loose  
floorboard and removed five small folded notes. He opened one 'Happy 10th  
birthday, Harry!' It had come with a piece of candy attached to it, which he  
had eaten right away. He smiled a bit; these notes are what he lived for. Not  
for the candy, but for the thought that someone out there cared for him. That  
one day he would escape this hellhole and be free.

Harry spent numerous of hours coming up with stories about the mystery person  
who sent him the notes. Who they were and why they couldn't save Harry from  
his retched family at the moment. He replaced the notes back in their hidden  
place and shut off the light. It was going to be a long rest of the day.

The next day, Harry walked into the dining room and cocked his head to the  
side. Dudley was wearing the goofiest get up he had ever seen in his short  
ten, almost eleven, years of life. Before he could comment on the stupid  
uniform, a horrible smell reached his nose. It came from the kitchen. Harry  
followed the smell, where his aunt was at the sink poking at something, like  
it was a dead animal, with her wooden stirring spoon.

"What is that?" Harry asked.

"Your uniform." His aunt replied. "You're going to the state school where you  
belong."

"Is that Dudley's old uniform? If I wear those to the school it'll look like a  
magician made a mistake and shrunk me instead." He watched his aunt's face  
become distorted.

"Boy!" His uncle bellowed. "Go get the mail."

"Make Dudley do it." Harry rebutted.

"Dudley, poke him with your stick." Vernon said.

Harry wondered about the mental state of Dudley's school board member, who  
gave children sticks for school. He rubbed lightly at the welt he knew was  
forming on his upper right arm. When he reached the door he bent down to pick  
up the post. He flipped through it and when he reached the last letter he felt  
his eyes widen and his jaw dropped.

_To Mr. Harry James Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_


	3. Keeper of Keys

A/N: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in a Nutshell. At least for the first few chapters that is. Nothing _really_ belongs to me, as this is only a fanfiction. Everything belongs to JKR. Enjoy-CCG

Chapter 3

Keeper of Keys

Harry shook his head as if to make the letter disappear.

It didn't.

Harry smiled slightly and turned to go back into the dining room. A letter  
came for him-not a note to acknowledge his birth; a letter, addressed to him.  
He was in a daze as he handed the post to his uncle. His hands shook a little  
as he turned the envelope over to open it.

It happened fast; too fast for his cousin's stature. The letter, his small  
glimpse of hope, was snatched from his fingers in an instant. He felt a tug in  
his chest: not from pain of his spiteful family, but from the huge amount of  
hatred for Dudley. His cousin took every little once of joy from him.

Not this time.

"Give that back! It's mine!" Harry shouted.

"Yours?" His uncle asks, staring at him with an expression that showed how  
impossible he found the idea. "Who'd be writing to you?"

Harry's lips twisted shut in anger: the person who cared enough to wish him a  
happy birthday. Someone out there did care, and that letter could have the  
answer as to who it was. His uncle looked at the envelope, expression warping  
into a frown, and his face began to redden. He glanced at his wife and then at  
Harry.

"Out!" He shouted. "Out, the both of you!"

"I'll go as soon as you give me back my letter! It belongs to me!" Harry  
stepped closer to his uncle. "That's my name on the front, so give it here!"

"I said get out!" His uncle was fully red, screaming and sputtering in anger.

"No! Give me my letter!"

"Dad! What is it?" Dudley demanded, his pudgy face eager. He always got his  
way.

Vernon stood up from the table and walked over to the stove and turned it on.  
He waited a moment as the burner heated up. He then removed a spatula from the  
hanger and placed the letter on the burner. With the spatula he pressed down  
on the envelope. Harry watched in horror as his post began to burn. Vernon  
turned back to the two boys.

"Now nobody will read it. Get out."

Harry glared at the over sized man before turning and leaving the room. His  
cousin followed him, pushing past him in the hall.

"Now you'll never know what it says." Harry watched Dudley laugh as he waddled  
into the living room. Harry stood there a moment before pressing himself to  
the door and listening in.

"What should we do Vernon?" His aunt asked, worry in her voice.

"We ignore it; they'll have to leave us alone eventually. I won't have this  
nonsense in my household."

Harry pulled back from the door; they obviously knew something about his  
letter. Harry hoped that whoever sent it was waiting for a reply, and when  
they didn't get one, would come looking for answers.

There was a knock on his door, but his aunt didn't wait for a response. Harry  
rubbed his left eye and sat up.

"Wa'z it?" He asked groggily.

"C'mon, get up...and get your stuff." She replied stiffly.

A slight panic raced through Harry: were his aunt and uncle finally tired of  
him and his "accidents"? Were they getting rid of him? Where would they send  
him? Would they just leave him alone on the street?

As bad as his life was at, number four Privet Drive, living nowhere was a lot  
worse.

"Where am I going?" Harry asked, hoping that she didn't hear the fear in his  
voice.

"You're moving into Dudley's old room." She replied quickly. "Now let's go, I  
won't tell you again."

Relief flood through him: they weren't kicking him out. In fact, they were  
giving him a room. A room, not the cramp, damp, spider infested cupboard he  
had spent his life in, but a room. Harry quickly got up and began to take his  
things upstairs. As he reached the top, he heard his cousin's voice,  
complaining. He had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from smirking at  
Dudley's displeasure.

"But I need that room mum!" He whined.

"Now Dudders, you'll have plenty of room in your new room." Petunia consoled  
him and then turned to Harry. "Hurry up, we don't have all day."

"Mum! I don't want him to have my room." Dudley whined again.

"Now pumpkin, it'll be fine."

Harry walked into the room. It wasn't big, but it was better than under the  
stairs. He dropped the stuff he had in his hand and went to grab the rest of  
his things.

Harry worked on his room until dinnertime. After he ate, he went right back  
upstairs. He didn't know the reason behind it, but he didn't care. For once in  
his life the Dursley's had done something nice for him. He put his hands into  
his pockets and pulled out the five little notes of 'Happy Birthday'. Perhaps  
it was the work of his guardian angel?

Harry yawned and stretched. His bed was not overly comfortable, but it was far  
better than the hardwood floor. He looked out the window; the sun was out. He  
looked at the clock on the table beside him. It was almost seven thirty. He  
slowly got out of bed and left the room to go to the kitchen. Petunia was  
already at the stove, her expression frantic.

"Aunt Petunia?" He asked warily.

"You go upstairs and…" She paused hurrying to push a handful of papers into  
the trash. "Go!"

Harry looked bewildered but complied. That was odd, he thought. Harry sat in  
his room for an hour before his aunt called him down. Dudley was devouring his  
meal. His uncle sipped on his coffee while reading the paper and his aunt was  
chewing on a piece of toast. It was as if that morning had never happened.

Harry sat down and poured himself a bowl of cornflakes. It was quiet, quiet  
enough to hear the post drop on the inside doormat. Dudley jumped up and  
shouted, "I'll get it!"

"No!" His uncle bellowed. "I'll get it."

Harry continued to eat his breakfast in silent amusement. Harry knew it was a  
letter for him. He was right; whoever had sent it was looking for a reply, and  
the longer they didn't get one, the more the letters came. It was only a  
matter of time before Harry got his hands on one. Vernon came back in and  
threw a handful of letters in the trash. He sharply turned to Harry.

"You! Upstairs."

Harry didn't offer up a rebuttal, he just placed his bowl in the sink and went  
to his bedroom. Despite the fact he still hadn't gotten the letter, it was  
funny to watch his family deal with the situation.

After handing out some biscuits to his relatives, Harry sat down and enjoyed a  
lemon biscuit himself. It was Sunday, which meant the post would stop for now.  
Too bad, Harry thought.

"Sunday's such a fine day, isn't Dudley?" Vernon asked. "It's my new favorite  
day of the week."

Harry nodded to himself and shoveled the last of his biscuit into his mouth.  
His eyes flickered towards the window as a large bird flew by. He walked over  
to the window. His eyes widened. It was a shocking sight to see. A large  
amount of owls had taken up residency all over Privet Drive.

"Why is today your new favorite day?" Dudley asked.

"Because there's no post on Sunday." Vernon replied and then grumbled. "Let's  
see those freaks contact him now."

Harry slightly turned his head in his uncle direction; there was always  
tomorrow. Harry also pondered who "those freaks" were. He looked down at his  
feet as he felt them shake. The house was rumbling. His head snapped away from  
the window and to the fireplace where he heard a rustling noise.

"What is that!" He heard his cousin yell. Harry felt anxious; he knew what  
was coming down the chimney and it wasn't Santa Claus.

Letters, enough to fill three sacks, shot out of the fireplace and into the  
living room. Harry couldn't help but let a smirk creep up on his face. Another  
abundance of letters shot through the mail slot as well. With his family  
momentarily shocked, Harry took his chance and grabbed letter. He jumped over  
the couch and ran for the stairs. Despite his uncle's large size, he caught  
his nephew quickly.

"Let go of me!" Harry shouted. "You've no right!"

"I have every right!" Vernon yelled back. "If those freaks won't leave us  
alone then we'll go far away, where they can't find us!"

Harry wasn't sure how they had sent so many letters, or who wrote them all,  
but he was sure that they, whoever they were, wouldn't find him now. Vernon's  
idea of going far away was hiding in a shack, on an island, in the middle of  
nowhere.

Harry sat on the front of the dead fireplace, holding a clock. He was counting  
down the minutes until his eleventh birthday. Briefly, he wondered if his  
angel knew where he was. Perhaps there would be a note for him when he got  
home.

The clock struck twelve: by Harry's count he was eleven. He wished he knew the  
exact time he was born. He wished he knew everything about his birth. He  
sighed; with all the weirdness that had been going on lately, he had thought  
his guardian was finally coming to save him. He set the clock to the side and  
laid down. So after he went to sleep…

Harry's eyes fluttered open, there was a loud thumping noise coming from the  
door. He quickly checked the clock it was five in the morning.

"What is that ruckus?" His uncle shouted, banishing a crowbar.

The door flew off its hinges and onto the floor. Dudley jumped behind the  
couch. A man with haggard hair and beard stood hunched over in the doorway. He  
stepped inside: his height was insane. He stepped off the door and picked it  
up, fixing it as much as he could. "Sorry 'bout that."

Harry stared. He knew it was rude, but he'd never seen a man of that size  
before. "You, sir, are trespassing! Leave at once!" His uncle sneered. The  
giant ignored him and turned to Harry.

"'Arry look at ya, you look just like yer da."

"You knew my dad?"

"And yeh mum." He replied. "Beautiful woman, she was."

He dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a brown book.

"Here, this is for you, and this." He also pulled out a white box.

Harry took it and thanked him. This wasn't the person who was sending him the  
notes, but Harry felt he could trust him.

"I'm sorry, I really appreciate the gifts... but who are you?"

"Name's Rebus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"The school where your parents learned their stuff."

"What stuff?"

Hagrid turned to the Dursleys.

"Have yuh told him nuthin' of his life?"

He turned back to Harry.

"Yer a wizard, Harry."

Harry was dumbstruck. ...that was unexpected.

"A wizard? But that's impossible. There's no such thing as magic."

He knew this because his uncle drilled it into is head his entire life.

"But you've seen the impossible, haven't ya Harry?" Hagrid asked. "How strange  
things happen to you when you're angry or scared."

Harry watched Hagrid's expression shift into a knowing smile. He dug into  
another pocket-Harry was curious to know how many pockets his coat had-and  
pulled out a letter.

His letter.

Harry took it, opening it quickly, and read it out loud.

"Dear Mr. Potter,"

"We are pleased to inform you, that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School  
of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"

He stopped reading and looked up at the keeper of keys.

"Tell me, Harry... would you like to go to Diagon Alley with me?"


	4. Harry Potter MrPotter The Boy Who Lived

A/N: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in a Nutshell. At least for the first few chapters that is. Nothing _really_ belongs to me, as this is only a fanfiction. Everything belongs to JKR. Enjoy-CCG

Chapter Four

Harry Potter, Mr. Potter, The Boy Who Lived

"I…" Harry started to answer.

"No, he will not be going!" His uncle retorted. Harry had honestly forgotten they were there. "We're going to put a stop to all this nonsense."

Harry turned toward his uncle. They knew. "You knew!" Harry voiced his thoughts. "You knew about this and you never told me?"

His aunt replied. "Of course we knew, you're Lily's son. She was the witch in the family, she went to Hogwarts, she married that Potter boy, and she had you, and then she got herself killed for that precious world of hers. The moment we found you on our doorstep, we knew we had to put a stop to it, to your freakishness."

"Killed! You mean my parents were murdered?" Harry shouted his stomach jumped into his throat. "You told me they died in a car crash."

"Ha, a car crash, kill Lily and James Potter?" Hagrid laughed.

Harry shook his head and glared at his family. "You've done some awful things to me, but this takes the cake." He turned to Hagrid. "Take me to this Diagon Alley." He turned to grab his gifts and noticed that his white box was missing. Dudley had it. It was cake. "Hey!" Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose, how could anyone be that greedy. Out the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hagrid point his umbrella at Dudley; a moment later a pig's tail had sprouted from Dudley's hindquarters. Harry laughed as the Dursley's began to panic.

"Well we should be on our way Harry."

Harry continued to read his letter as Hagrid took him to London. He looked through his list of school supplies. "Mr. Rebeus?'

"Hagrid will do just fine eh."

"Uh Hagrid, are you sure we can find all this stuff in London?"

"Of course I'm sure, but you have to know where to go."

Hagrid stopped in front of a tatty looking building. Its sign said The Leaky Cauldron. "'Ere we are." It was a pub, a lively one. Harry watched as Hagrid greeted some people. The barkeep shouted to him over the crowds' voices. "Hagrid, how are you? The usual I presume?"

"No thanks Tom, I'm on official Hogwarts business." Hagrid patted Harry's shoulder, Harry Looked up at the man; he had a strange look in his eyes. "Just helping young Harry here buy his school supplies."

"Bless my soul, it's Harry Potter!" Tom exclaimed the pub went numb. Harry's eyes widened. 'How does he know my name?' Harry thought. He was even more shocked when several others greeted him and shook his hand. Hagrid stopped him in front of a man wearing a turban.

"Ha-Harry Pot-Potter can't tell you how plea-pleased I am to, to meet you." The man said.

"Well, hello there Quirnius." Hagrid replied. "Harry, this is Professor Quirrell, he'll be your defense against the dark arts teacher."

"Oh." Harry exclaimed at least it made sense for him to know Harry's name. "It's nice to meet you as well."

"Well I'm sorry, but we have lots to buy." Hagrid gave aloud chuckled and escorted Harry to the back of the pub and through a door.

"Uh Hagrid, what was that?" Harry asked he needn't had pointed out what he was talking about.

"Uh…now watch here Harry." Hagrid pulled out his umbrella and tapped the brick wall in front of him, four taps. They began to move. Harry watched in awe, briefly forgetting that Hagrid dodged his question. "Welcome Harry, to Diagon Alley."

It was like discovering a new world that had been there all along, a world that he finally belonged to. Hagrid walked him down the crooked street. They passed by so many stored, a wand shop, cauldron shop, owl shop, and a place called Quality Quidditch Supplies, whatever Quidditch is, in the window they were modeling brooms. 'Did witches and wizards actually fly on them?" Harry wondered. "Hagrid, are you…how am I to pay for all of this, I haven't any money."

"You have money Harry." Hagrid laughed and pointed to a building up ahead. "Your money's in there, Gringotts, the wizard bank."

And a wizard bank it was, although it was run by goblins, scary looking creatures with long pointy ears and a long pointed nose. In Harry's opinion, they looked like bitter old people in their nineties ready to bite the hand off of anyone who got to close. They came to a stop in front of one of the goblin's desk. "'Ello, a Mr. Harry Potter would like to make a withdrawal."

The goblin leaned forward. "And does Mr. Harry Potter have his key?"

Hagrid pulled two things out of his pocket, a small key and an envelope. "Also, a letter from Professor Dumbledore, I need the, you know what from vault you know which." The goblin nodded and called for another goblin to assist them. The goblin, Griphook, took them to a cart and they began the journey through the bank.

It was like a roller coaster ride. They stopped in front of vault number 687, Harry's vault. Harry watched closely as Griphook opened the door. The opened and Harry's jaw dropped. There were mounds of gold, silver, and bronze. "See Harry, your mum and dad wouldn't leave ya wit nuttin." Harry nodded and entered the chamber; the only question now was what his parents did to be able to afford giving him so much. Harry took out a small bag and started to fill it up.

They had one more stop to make. Vault 713, the vault opened a lot differently than Harry's it didn't need a key. The vault was empty except for a small package. Hagrid took it and turned to Harry. "Mum's the word Harry." He nodded and they left Gringotts.

"So where to next?" Harry asked.

"To get yeh school supplies, check yer list."

"The first thing they have is: Three plain work robes, one black hat, and one pair of protective gloves (dragon skin)…and one black cloak with silver fastening."

"Ah, yes, you can get those at Madam Malkin's." Hagrid said and steered Harry towards the store. "Now I'll be right back."

Harry nodded and entered the store. The door jingled and a voice called out to him. "I'll be with you in a minute." Harry nodded and took a seat. There was already a boy being fitted. Harry watched as the measuring tape moved on its own accord.

"First year?" the boy asked as he was finished getting sized up. He stepped down from the stool.

"Huh? Oh yeah." Harry replied.

A woman in black robes came out from the back. "C'mon dear, step up here." Harry did as he was told.

"Which house do you think you'll be in?" the asked fixing his blond hair in the mirror. Harry wasn't sure what he was talking about and hoped his answer made sense. "I'm not sure, I'm just glad I'm going."

"Oh I know what you mean." He stated. "If I was born a squib, I'd kill myself." There was a knock at the window, a woman with blonde hair; much like the boy's beckoned for him. "That's my mum." He tossed some gold coins on the counter and took the robes that were there for him. "My family comes from a long line of Slytherins, best house at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded and the boy left. Harry turned his head back to the measuring tape. He heard the door jingled again. It was Hagrid. "Almost done then Harry?"

"Yes, I was thinking of getting my books next."

"Then Flourish and Blotts is the place to go."

Harry paid for his stuff and he and Hagrid took off for the bookstore. Hagrid waited at the front of the store as Harry went off to collect his books. He smiled as he walked down the aisle. The books were alive. He turned the corner and ran into a pile of books. "Sorry." Someone said from behind the pile. "It's ok." The person behind the stack shifted. It was a girl, with bushy brown hair and bright brown eyes.

"Wow are those our school books, there's so many." Harry said.

"Oh, no. Well some of them are, the others are for fun, I need to catch up with the history of my new life." She replied. "My parents are non magical you see, so along with a History of Magic, Magical Theory, A beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, Magical Drafts and Potions and Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them. I'm also getting Hogwarts, A History." Harry had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from smiling. He couldn't believe someone was this excited about school. "I'm Hermione, by the way."

"Harry."

"Well I should get going, the Professor's waiting." Hermione shuffled the books around so that she had a free hand and held it out. "It was nice meeting you Harry; I'll see you at term."

"You too." Harry said and watched her juggle the books around again. "Do you need any help with those?"

"No, but thank you though." She smiled her oversized front teeth showing. "Bye now."

Harry waved and went to gather his books. When he was done, Hagrid took him to Ollivander's, the wand shop. "Ok." Hagrid said. "Now I've got one more stop to make, you go in there and get yer wand and I'll be right back and after we finish shopping we'll head back to the Leaky Cauldron for supper yea?" Harry nodded and watched him walk away. He turned back to go inside and bumped into another girl.

"Oh I'm sorry, that was my fault." She replied. "A bit too fascinated with my wand…wow how many innuendos could come outta that phrase…anyway." She twirled her wand. "Beauty isn't she, ten inches of African Padauk, soaked in unicorn tears. Though that last part, admittedly is a bit creepy, but what'll you gonna do." She looked down and pulled out an odd looking watch. "Oh gotta go meet the group. Byes." Harry chuckled lightly.

"I'm going to love this school." Harry stated before entering the shop.

Ollivander's was a mess in Harry's opinion. There were boxes and papers everywhere. It looked as though a tornado threw up in there. Harry looking around, the wandsmith was nowhere in sight. "Hello?" There was a slight creaking noise, an old man on a moving ladder slid into view.

"Ah, I wondered when I'd be seeing you Mr. Potter." The man spoke. "I remember when your parents came and bought their first wands. Lily was a willow; it was swishy very good for charms. James on the hand he was mahogany: pliable excellent for transfiguration." He pulled a box off the shelf and took a wand out of it. "And you are…" He handed Harry the wand. Harry only held it for a moment, before Mr. Ollivander snatched it from him and handed him a new one. "Give this one a wave." Harry did, a box across for flew at his head, he ducked and it smacked against to wall behind him. Terror raced through Harry. What if they couldn't find him a wand, and then he wouldn't be able to go back to Hogwarts and go back to the Dursley's. Maybe he could run away, he had the means. His rambling thoughts were cut short when Mr. Ollivander reappeared, Harry didn't know he moved. Harry took the wand from him, a warm feeling shot up his arm. Mr. Ollivander smiled knowingly. "Curious."

"Yeah." Harry muttered. "I'm mean, I'm sorry, but what's curious?'

"That, that wand belongs to you, when its brother wand I sold was to the one who gave you that scar."

"And who owned that wand sir?"

"Nobody dares speak his name, for he did greatly terrible things."

Harry nodded and looked down at his wand, Ollivander spoke again. "Holly, eleven inches supple, inside it has one phoenix tail feather. I expect you to do terribly great things with that Mr. Potter."

Harry bobbed his head up and down not really knowing what to see. Mr. Ollivander was a creepy person. He left the store as Hagrid strolled up with a beautiful white owl in a cage in his hand. "Happy Birthday Harry." Harry took the caged and said thank you; he could do nothing but stare at the bird.

The rest of the evening went by uneventfully. The things Mr. Ollivander said played in Harry's mind all during dinner, he just had to know.

"He killed my parents, didn't he Hagrid, the one who gave me my scar." Harry asked. "Tell me Hagrid, I have a right to know."

Hagrid sighed. "Alright, but know this Harry, not all wizards are good."

"Right, how can there be good with no evil." Harry stated.

"Yes well, about a decade ago, there was one wizard who went as bad as you can go and his name was V…his name was Vol…"

"Maybe if you wrote it down." Harry offered.

"Nah, I can't spell it. Ok his name is Voldemort." Hagrid whispered.

"Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"Yes, it was dark times Harry, with Voldemort at large and his number increasing. Then one night he came after your parents, he murdered them."

"But why Hagrid?"

"I can't say for sure, but something about you that night stopped him from killing you too." Hagrid stated. "In turn, he who must not be named was destroyed, that's why you're famous, and that's why everybody knows your name. You're the Boy Who Lived."

A/N: I hate Hagrid speak. -CCG


	5. Off to the Wizarding School

A/N: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in a Nutshell. At least for the first few chapters that is. Nothing _really_ belongs to me, as this is only a fanfiction. Everything belongs to JKR. Enjoy-CCG

Chapter Five

Off to the Wizarding School

Harry watched his aunt and uncle drive off. His uncle having a laughing fit the entire time. After his shopping trip, Hagrid had taken him back to privet drive. His family ignored him, which was fine. Harry went straight to his room and unloaded his stuff. He sat in the middle of his room, in front of his bed and began to flip through his textbooks.

He bit his lip and smiled as he went to switch books; a letter fell to the floor. He picked it up and opened it. It was from Hagrid.

"Dear Harry,

You need to be at King Cross, before 11 to catch your train. Just go through Platform 9 ¾ to get to the Hogwarts Express. Here's your ticket.

Hagrid.

"Platform 9 and ¾?" Harry muttered.

During dinner Harry had asked his uncle if he could take him there. He agreed but only because they were taking Dudley to a doctor up by that way. During the car ride, Harry told them about his ticket. His uncle laughed. His aunt began to fuzz with Dudley.

They had dropped him off and left. Harry sighed and looked around the station and walked over to the platforms 9 and 10. He looked at his letter. "Go to platform 9 3/4." He looked up and saw a handful of red heads stop on the other side of the platform. He watched them. There were 6 if them, 4 boys, a girl, and a plump woman, the matter obviously. The boys each pushed their own carts. The girl stayed by the mother's side.

The curly haired ginger went first. He pushed his cart at the wall between platforms 9 and 10. Harry shook his head and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Did he just see what he thinks he saw? The woman turned back to the other boys, "Okay, Fred, you're next." She said to the boy on her right.

"He's not Fred, I am." The boy to her left claimed. "Our own mother can't even tell us apart." The woman looked slightly shameful.

"Oh I do apologize, go along then George."

"I'm only joking I am Fred." The boy to the left replied and ran at and into the wall and vanished. The boy on the right, George, followed after him.

Harry took his hands off his cart and placed his palms on his temples. "Oh wow." He exclaimed and lowered his arms. He made his way over to the family. "Um, excuse me?" The last male ginger stopped in his track and turned towards him.

"First time to the platform?" he asked Harry.

"Oh blessed you. It's Ron's first time to Hogwarts as well." The mother started. "Where is your escort?"

"Escort?" Harry asked.

"Yes, the professor from the school that's to escort you to platform 9 ¾. Every first year muggleborn gets one." The mother replied.

"Oh well, not me."

"No matter, come, come." She opened her arms wide and gestured him. He came and made it so that his cart was facing the wall. "Now all you have to do is run straight between 9 ¾ and you'll go right through."

"You should run if you're nervous." The girl started.

Harry nodded and took the girls advice. He closed his eyes as he drew near the wall and waited for the crash. When it didn't come, Harry opened his eyes and gasped. He stared wide-eyed and mouth opened the crimson train that displayed the name, 'Hogwarts' Express'. Harry was still in a daze when he felt a hand slap on his back. "Best get a move on mate if you want a seat of your own." It was one of the twin boys. His brother wasn't far behind him. He was standing next to a dark skinned boy with dred-locks. They came over.

"Check out this beauty." The dark skinned boy said holding up his tarantulas.

"There not real of course." One twin replied.

"But our brother Ron would think so." The other one responded.  
Harry chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, something that didn't go unnoticed by the boys.

"Look here boys, we have ourselves a celebrity."

The one closest to him said and grabbed his trunk. "Let me help you with that, I'm Fred by the way, that's George and Lee."

The three boys helped him get his stuff into an empty compartment, leaving soon after to find poor Ron and torture him endlessly. Harry sat down and sighed, he had forgotten about his celebrity status in the wizard world. Harry turned his head to the window as the train began to move. The boy who lived, Harry scoffed, that was nothing to celebrate about.

"Do you mind everywhere else is full?" He questioned.

"Not at all"

"I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley." He said and then looked away, embarrassed. Harry stared at him bemusedly. "You're not muggle-born; Fred and George told me who you are." Harry closed his eyes in understanding. "So do you have the scar?"

Harry sighed and lifted up his bangs. Ron smiled, "Wicked, well I mean… not the part about your parents but, -"

Harry smiled and waved him off. They fell into an easy conversation. The trolley stopped by. Harry had never seen nor had the money for such candy, so he bought 2 of everything. Ron watched longingly as Harry dropped his stash on the seat. He offered Ron some, stating that he couldn't eat it all by himself.

"So we have, Berti Bott's Every Flavored Beans, not something I enjoy too much and…-"

Harry picked up another box. "These aren't real frogs, are they?"

"It's just a spell, besides it's the cards you want." Ron started shoveling more candy into his mouth; he pouched it in the side of his mouth like a squirrel so that he could finish speaking. "I have so many at home."

Harry opened the box and watched as the chocolate frog, come to life and hop and stick itself to the window. It climbed up the open glass and jumped out. Harry chuckled, "It's like a fortune cookie. You don't eat the cookie you just read the fortune. Ron took a bite of a piece of thick licorice "What's a fortune cookie?"

"Never mind."

The door their compartment slid open. The person entered. It was the blond Harry had met in at the Robe Store. Behind him were two oversized boys, probably around the same weight as his cousin.

"So you're Harry Potter then?" The blonde asked. "I feel a bit daft for not recognizing you before. This is Vincent Crabble, and Greggory Goyle, and I'm Draco Malfoy.

Ron snorted. Draco snapped his hand and the gingers direction. After looking him up and down, he scoffed. "Laughs the poor weasel. Think I couldn't figure out who you were? Red head and a hand me down robe..." He turned his head back to Harry." I'd watch who I was friends with if I was you."

"Lay down with the dogs, come up with fleas."

The boys jumped and turned to the hallway. Harry turned his neck so that he could see who was out there. It was the girls from Diagon Alley. The dark skinned girl stepped in. "Simmer down there, Juliet"

"What did you just call me!" Draco asked.

"You know Romeo and Juliet? From the way you said Malfoy and Weasel. You must have a bitter family rivalry." She lifted her hands and shrugged. "And since you seem a bit more womanly, you got cast as Juliet."

"Whatever." He muttered he pushed passed and stormed off.

They watched them go for a moment before turning back to the two boys. Hermione smiled. "So you're Harry Potter?"

Harry smiled, he didn't know why, but he felt like she honestly didn't care.

"And you're Hermione…?"

"Granger."

"Sydney Fawcett and what happened to your glasses?"

"I can fix that." Hermione stated.

Hermione walked over to Harry and stood in front of him. She pulled her wand and pointed it at Harry's face. He looked a little nervous. "Oculus Reparo." Harry's glasses were fixed. He pulled them off and exclaimed, "Wow, thanks."

"I know a spell too." Ron said. "Watch this." He turned to his seat, where a rat, seemingly dead, was. "Sunshine daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow."

Nothing happened Sydney coughed. "Awkward." Ron glared at her. "What did you just come in here to show off?"

"No, we came to ask if either of you had seen a toad." Sydney replied.

"A boy named Neville's lost one." Harry and Ron both shook their heads." We'll we should probably get going and you should probably get going, and you should probably change into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon." Hermione waved and left the compartment.

"You have dirt on your face right there." Sydney pointed at his nose before saying goodbye and leaving. Ron scrubbed his nose and growled.

"I hope I'm not in their house."

A/N: Ha I completely changed a characters name. Oh well. –CCG.


	6. Getting Started

A/N: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in a Nutshell. At least for the first few chapters that is. Nothing _really_ belongs to me, as this is only a fanfiction. Everything belongs to JKR. Enjoy-CCG

Chapter Six

Getting Started

Harry's gated never stuck to one place. Not during the boat ride, this was handled by Rubeus Hagrid, or during the sorting ceremony. Out of all the students he only watched a few get sorted. The Fawcett girl was sorted into Ravenclaw, much to Ron's pleasure. Gryffindor received Hermione, Ron groaned at this.

Harry's eye began to drift after that, to the teacher's table. He noticed a teacher sitting next to Professor Quirrell, staring at him. He had greasy black hair, beady black eyes, and a long nose. Harry wondered what his problem was. His scar began to tingle and he rubbed at his forehead. That had never happened before.

"Malfoy, Draco!" The deputy headmistress called out. Harry's head snapped over to the blonde. Before the hat could even touch his head it called out "Slytherin!"

"There's never been a witch or wizard who went bad, wasn't in Slytherin." Ron whispered. Harry figured that, that was on exaggeration, but didn't comment on the matter. It was his turn.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked.

Harry lifted his head and nodded. He had the biggest headache. 'You'll do well in Slytherin' the hat had told him. He shook his head, he'd also be judged harshly in Slytherin. Did that make him a coward?

"He's probably just hungry, I know I am." Ron stared at the teachers' table.

"When is the feast going to start?"

"All that food you had on the train and still hungry?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"I'm a growing boy."

"On the verge of obesity." Hermione muttered.

"Mind your own business."

Harry rubbed his temples. "Who's that teacher talking to Prof. Quirrell?"

"That there is Snape." Fred answered or maybe it was George… "Potion Prof."

"Silly git, head of Slytherin house, and is always favoring the wankers." George added.

Harry nodded, maybe all Slytherin were evil.

The meal came after Dumbledore made a few announcements. To Harry, he seemed like an odd old man.

The feast was delicious and the people and ghosts he met, funny. Nearly headless Nick was quite the character. He wondered how anyone could be nearly headless. When he found out, he wished he hadn't asked.

"This is the common room." Percy announced

After the feast, all the Perfects were assigned to guiding the first years. "The first year boy dorms are upstairs to your left, the girls to your right. Now you have a full day ahead up to bed, Goodnight," Percy turned and headed upstairs.

"What a tosser."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned to see who made the comment. Ron stepped forward.

"That's my brother."

"I promise not to hold it against you. Name's Seamus Finnigan."

"Well I happen to think he's a very together fellow." Hermione started.

"Who's a tosser?" Ron laughed.

"That's your brother."

"So why don't you find some friends?" Ron teased. "Oh no wait, you probably want to get a head start for tomorrow. Night, night sleep tight."

The others laughed; Hermione turned and headed upstairs, which caused Ron to laugh even harder.

"What a shrew."

It wasn't long before the boys went upstairs as well. It took them five minutes to get settled in. Harry took the bed closest to the door and Ron took the one across from Harry, and his friend Dean took the one next to him. Neville had taken the bed next to the left door. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.

A/N: Yeah short chapter sorry. The next one will be longer. -CCG


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